


It Takes Time

by Bonyspark



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonyspark/pseuds/Bonyspark
Summary: During the first UK, and for that matter European, Game Grumps Live tour, Dan and Arin's usual joking around reaches a new level. When they return home, Arin tries to tackle Dan's perpetual singleness, leading to a new development neither of them saw coming.





	It Takes Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission to the Game Grumps Big Bang 2017! The entire process was wicked amounts of fun, and I ended up with a great piece of work to show off for it!
> 
> I worked in conjunction with the lovely artist who chose to illustrate my work, Lauren (grumpsquad.tumblr.com), who did a fantastic job bringing my story to life.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It took him a full minute to register the warm styrofoam cup in his hand as real. He wanted to thank the selfless soul who had done a coffee run, but for the life of him couldn’t figure out which one of them it had been. He gave up the notion of sitting up and looking, too checked into the spine-bending position he found himself slipping into after ten minutes in the small and uncomfy airport seats. He gently brought the cup to his lips, blowing to cool it off. Around him were a few conversations, and he chose to focus on Arin’s voice next to him, out of both laziness and intrigue.

“My nips fucking _hurt_ , dude. And I don’t know why, I haven't done anything to them.” He was too excited for 4:00 in the morning, but Dan remembered him chalking it up to an early workout and no sleep. _I’ll do it on the flight. Airplanes are for sweet naps._ Dan might’ve been inclined to believe him if he himself didn't need a cocktail of sleeping medicine to even get close to REM sleep on one of those flying metal death machines. They’re like birds made of steel. Are planes made of steel?

“It says sensitivity can be caused by hormone changes. You are, about to get your period?” Vernon took a break from writing an email to look up Arin’s affliction, and was reading him the google search from the seat across.

“Aw, sweet.”

“Sweet?” Dan spoke for the first time since they all hobbled into the airport half an hour ago, and his interjection was full of confusion.

“Yeah, it means I’m not pregnant.” Arin didn’t turn towards him, gripped by a colorful mobile game. The flashing lights reflected off his face in an out of place display in the quiet lobby. Dan let out a thoughtful _hmm_ and turned his eyes away, already seeing white imprints in his vision of the screen.

The place wasn’t packed by any means, but there were still a considerable amount of people milling around in the ever encompassing sour mood of a mandatory early morning activity. Men in suits with loosened ties downed the most bitter coffee they could swing, making the face to match, and a few mothers had set up nests of blankets and electronic devices to entertain their almost-awake children. It certainly wasn't the worst place to be on a Tuesday morning, but if someone offered him a time machine to skip ahead 8 hours, he wouldn’t say no.

The drone of the PA system called them to board before anyone could begin to really relax, the groaning and shuffling of bags and people only shed an unflattering light on how brittle they all felt shouldering their packs and dumping their coffees.

Dan felt the saving grace of his guardian angel shine down on him by way of granting him with the all-important aisle seat, which he experienced a pleasant surprise seeing only because he forgot he specifically chose it two weeks ago, elbowing the rest of them out of the way even to snag it, turning his hat backwards and calling them “chumps” in the process.

He shepherded Brent and Arin into the other seats before taking his own, his praying mantis legs effectively making him the gatekeeper of bathroom and leg stretch breaks. He was fishing around in his carry-on satchel for earbuds while the safety video played on the small screens buried in the seats. Arin mockingly slapped his arm and told him to pay attention, which he responded to by very gently shaking his head and mouthing the word ‘no.’

He was scrolling through playlists, cursing himself for not making one specific to the flight, when Arin poked him for real. He yanked an earbud out, irritated. Arin just pointed behind him, to the patient stewardess waiting for his attention. Dan could feel the embarrassment start to creep up on him, but he put on a winning smile anyway. She said something about a breakfast cart coming around soon, then drinks, then general flight time.

Arin had already checked out when the promise of muffins was brought up, but all Dan could think about was how dreadful the just the words ‘10 hour flight’ sounded, let alone how they felt. The last time he went wasn’t bad at all, but that was because he had his mother to talk to. Living thousands of miles apart really grants a million talking pieces, and the two of them realistically could’ve gone another five flights without running out of stuff in their lives to bring up.

Dan finally settled on a playlist, choosing it solely because it had a Van Halen song in it and that promised good things, the name of which he hadn’t even processed. He let himself drift into the fuzzy place between being awake and being asleep, blocking out the visual stimuli. He thought about his mom, and something she said was veering on the edge of his consciousness, threatening to become a full blown point of interest. She had laid her hand on his, though only covering half it made its mark of moral support. Her eyes were on his, searching and careful, and he felt in that moment that he was going to receive a piece of very bad news, like a relative passing. He was then woefully unprepared for what she said, very sincere and soft.

“Have you tried online dating?”

Dan couldn’t help but bust out laughing, putting his other hand over his chest. They weren’t talking about dating at all!

“Debbie! What?” He settled down and smiled at his mom, who wasn’t deterred by his reaction.

“It’s just a suggestion. I wish we had it back in my day, it would save a lot of my friends complaining.” Her tone was light, but had an undercurrent to it, like she really wanted him to listen to what she was saying. Dan remembered feeling suddenly uncomfortable, the topic of his love life brought up yet again by someone well meaning. He shifted but didn’t remove his hand. The response was so easy it was almost mechanical.

“I’m ‘too famous’ for that, remember? I’d get recognized, and it’d be a mess.” It sounded like he didn’t even believe himself, which lead his mom to sharpen her gaze for a second more, before giving his hand one final squeeze.

“Okay, darling.”

Just recalling that small moment had kept Dan from falling asleep, and he opened his eyes with a sigh. Arin was back on the colorful mobile game, tapping in whatever specific way netted him the largest amount of points. Dan knew it would hurt his eyes to keep looking, so he stared at Arin’s moving hands until he was swayed to sleep, like someone being hypnotized.

He woke up to the sound of Brent coughing and the rattling of a cart being pushed down the aisle. Arin was sitting with his hands folded, an action Dan almost didn’t find weird due to his groggy state.

“What?”

Arin widened his eyes comically big.

“I wasn’t doing anything. Not trying to change your music or anything.”

Dan felt himself warm up to his friend’s antics, just in time to use that same smile for the stewardess that handed them trays of food. Dan appraised the meals, feeling his stomach rumble.

“What time is it? I forgot breakfast.” He reached for a sandwich, unknowingly picking up the one he ordered when also picking his seat. Three weeks is a long time ago, okay?

“It’s noon. We have about two hours left.” Brent answered for Arin, who was gulping down whatever soup was in the white container and nodding along, pressing play on his phone to continue watching a video of a guy talking about what was presumably video games.

Dan unbuckled his seatbelt (why did he leave it on?) and stretched his arms up, his muscles realizing how many hours he had slept in the same position. The few bites of that sandwich had already worked their magic on his airsickness, and he quickly got the rest of it down, gulping the bottled water to rehydrate himself. Two hours.

The descent, gathering of stuff, deboarding, and navigation out of the airport happened in a rushed blur of people and noise. Barry told them that it was one of the busiest places in the world, and he wasn’t wrong. It took all of their combined concentration, with a lot of leadership from Vernon, to break away from the swell of moving bodies and load their things into a large black taxi.

As the skinniest, Dan was sandwiched between Arin and Vernon for the trip to the hotel, which wouldn’t be that bad if Arin wasn’t threatening the passengers of the car with gas. Dan was reminded that he had gotten again stiffed out of a window seat, and proceeded to look out the window by leaning over Vernon, who reacted accordingly by getting red and laughing. Maybe his body was extended a little farther than needed, but Dan was busy getting an eyeful of the historic and beautiful London streets to adjust himself.

The hotel was a drive, but looking at the buildings was more than enough to entertain the three of them, as well as Arin’s people watching voice, which had been changed to a cockney one in honor of their arrival in the UK. Very mildly offensive? Yeah. Funny? Yeah. That was Arin.

The hotel was this grand old building with a million windows and plants growing up the side of it. Because of the location, Dan couldn’t really tell if this would be considered great or terrible by the locals, so decided to err on the side of ‘great,’ for the sake of positivity. They grabbed their respective things, Arin also grabbing Brent’s by way of him still chatting to the driver.

The lobby of the hotel was huge, most of its walls filled up with paintings of what Dan could only assume were famous historical figures. A few antiques were set out on some of the tables, but he was herded away from looking at those by an ‘insistently going towards the front desk’ Vernon. He didn’t speak too long with the man there, who was dressed smart enough to make Dan feel like a schlub in his ripped jeans. When he came back to their huddle in the middle of the floor, he extended his hand to show off the room key. Singular.

“One key?” Dan was quicker on the draw.

“One room.” Vernon didn’t look displeased, so this might have been the plan all along. They piled into the gilded elevator, admiring the small touches of elegance present even in the tiniest of details. Dan kept his cool until the third floor by watching the numbers change gradually as they were lifted up to their destination.

The hallway was carpeted, quiet, and brightly lit. Vernon strode to the ending suite, unlocking it almost too quickly and throwing the door open.

The room was like the rest of the place: large, ornate, and almost too much. The open parlor area had a white couch facing a coffee table and a TV (which was jarringly out of place in this Jane Austen dreamhouse). The gleaming stone countertops of the kitchen could be seen in the background, and a few offshoots from the main room presumably led to a bedroom of sorts. Perhaps a few of them? Vernon read his mind.

“Two beds. They’re pretty big.” He was leafing through papers in his bag, unbothered. Arin brushed by Dan, and turned to look at him while raising his eyebrows and lowering his voice.

“They’re pretty big.”

He was right. The master bedroom, generously bestowed upon the two headliners of the first European Game Grumps Live tour by their managers and friends, contained a plush bed that rivaled the one Dan had at home. He was wrapped up in the fine pattern on the delicate red fabric of the comforter (or _duvet_ , he guesses), so wrapped up in fact that he didn’t see Arin claim his right side territory until his bag was already open on it.

“Hey, man.” Dan put his stuff down on the other, already admitting defeat but still putting up a fight.

“Don’t ‘hey man’ me, I was grandfathered into this position by having a wife who sleeps on the other side. It’s harder for me to change than you, that’s just facts.”

Dan’s mood took another small hit at the mention of relationships. Jesus, he was sensitive lately, what was up with that? Arin continued, tone morphing.

“That means you can be my Suzy, if we’re sleeping in the same bed. You’re a little taller, like half a foot taller-”

“And hairier,” Dan interjected, “don’t forget much hairier.”

“So she hasn’t shaved in awhile. I’m cool with that, keeps me warm on a cold, Britannia night.”

Dan broke at that, and laughed into the shirt he had pulled out to change into. It wasn’t a new thing to share a bed, and it would continue to not be a new thing as Arin snored, kicked, and attempted to snuggle his way through the night and Dan’s defenses. At least he was upfront about it.

“I’m not much to cuddle with, unfortunately,” Dan sighed, the fact of the self-deprecating comment making it out of his mouth surprising even him. Arin looked surprised.

“You kidding me? You’re the cuddliest dude ever. Like a cuddlefish.”

“Not sure that’s what they’re called, but thanks man.” Dan inched towards the bathroom to get a head start before Arin saw and raced him there. He made a break for it in time to shut the door on Arin’s annoyed realization. He gave one feeble pound on the wooden frame before retreating.

Dan set his things down on the sink, trying to acclimate himself to what was dubbed their “base camp” for the tour. They would stay 2 weeks in the first trial run, doing 10 shows up and down the countries in an attempt to gauge interest, although Dan kept the small egotistical thought that there would always be interest to himself.

After luxuriating in the doorless porcelain shower for ten minutes longer than he had to, Dan cut the water off and rubbed his face clean with one of the white towels provided in the bathroom. For a strange unconscious reason, he avoided looking at himself for too long, maybe to avoid some kind of self confrontation that was much needed.

He shook his wet hair out like a puppy would shake water from its fur, the comparison making his laugh echo off the tile of the room. He pulled whatever shirt he took in on, along with one of his trusted pairs of pyjama pants. They didn’t see too much action at home, but even with his level of trust in the people he was rooming with, flying just boxers was not a prudent idea. He walked (flopped more like it, if the loose fabric of his too-big PJs was anything to go by) into the parlor, where Vernon and Arin were sitting on the couch.

He sat in the companion lounge chair, pulling his phone out. Before he had held his thumb on the button long enough for it to recognize it, Vernon was listing off the numbers in the Wi-Fi password. They knew each other too well.

Dan texted a few people, answered one or two emails, and even impulsively looked at the channel to see if it was all still there. Maybe a little ridiculous, but this was the farthest trip they’d ever taken in business terms, and he always had a fear of returning to a burning building, either metaphorically or literally.

Arin broke the silence, putting down the remote after flipping through whatever hotel channels were available.

“We should like, talk to each other.”

“Nah, that stuff’s for emotionally sensitive people.” Vernon flatlined, scrolling through twitter.

“What are we doing for food? We can eat at that big ass dining table.”

“I guess room service. You guys probably don’t want to go out?” Vernon, perpetually unsure, was probably ready to suggest a million takeout options he had already researched.

“That sounds nice,” Dan said, yawning halfway through the statement. Anything warm and edible would just be fantastic. He had already curled his legs into himself and was leaning on them heavily, sleep wouldn’t be far behind him at this point.

Half an hour and two debates on what seasoning is better for a pork rub (which wasn’t even on the menu?), and the delivered orders were spread out on the dining room table.

“Come on man, we’re sharing a bathroom,” Dan whined in a futile attempt to stop Arin from smothering more mysterious white sauce onto his burger. Arin shook his head, an errant piece of lettuce flying from his mouth and almost hitting Dan’s hand.

“You are one gross man.”

If Dan was worried about Arin keeping him awake with any type of obnoxious bodily function, he didn’t have to be. As soon as his curls hit the satin pillowcase, he was far into a dreamless sleep. He stirred once, only enough to be vaguely aware of Arin heading for the bathroom, but that was it, and he was back to sleep.

The next morning, you could feel the beginning tension of the first show in the air, and Dan found himself counting the hours down to it, anxious. There were twelve, twelve sixty minute intervals until they had to step out on a stage and play games for a wild crowd. Arin bounced his leg, Brent rubbed his chin, and Vernon twisted his hands, all nervous tics that came out in them on performance days.

The time melted away, and between going over the general plan and whittling it down to specifics, asking questions about timing and placement, they barely had time to make themselves look presentable before Brent was calling them out the door.

The ride was silent, and any fan that could glimpse into the car would think they had just gotten off the tail end of a nasty fight, but this was their system. Their rhythm. Starting out quiet and then slowly ramping it up into an unparalleled level of hype. When they were sitting backstage, they started cracking easy jokes with each other and the fast working crew around them. A few silly vocal exercises later, and they were in a comedic enough place to entertain a thousand people.

Moments before stepping out on stage, Dan’s heart was beating a mile a minute under his Def Leppard shirt, and he fanned himself a little before hopping in place. Arin turned to him and smiled, beaming a ray of positive energy at his friend. They were already being introduced via microphone, and Dan’s legs began moving before his brain could catch up.

He was standing in front of so many goddamn people. It really never got old, seeing the individual faces light up and scream for joy, and Dan’s entertainer personality had overtaken him fully. He raised the mic up to his mouth and let out a cheerful whoop. They went nuts for it. Arin was so happy, trying to look at as many people as possible at one time and failing. He started in on the mock British accent, what would most likely be a common theme for the night, and the audience roared with laughter.

Already enveloped by the action of it all, Dan jumped headfirst into their first live show.

~

They were all but carried back to the hotel in the arms of the stage managers, one of which had said to them the moment they said their goodbyes and stepped off stage: “You need to exit out the back. I wouldn’t want to be caught in that mob.” She piled them into the cab and set them off with a wave, and Dan regretted immensely forgetting her name, if not for the fact that she was very attractive then for the fact that it’s the polite thing to do when you meet someone.

Vernon, exhausted from running around the audience, choosing volunteers, and making sure nobody rioted, laid down the length of the couch when they got back to the room and began massaging his legs. Brent retired to his room, suggesting heavily that Arin and Dan go to sleep before they passed out.

Tucked under the soft sheets next to each other, it was harder to fall asleep than before, the energy from the show still buzzing off them. They recounted funny moments until the pauses between their words became too long to ignore. Dan said goodnight first and flipped over onto his side.

He woke up sweaty. Like, trench coat in summer sweaty. His entire back, legs, and neck were swamped in warmth, and with dawning fear he wondered if he hurt himself during the night. It was an unfounded worry, because as he woke up further, he noticed it wasn’t too many layers of clothing or a massive heatwave; Arin had just snuggled up to him in the night and wouldn’t let him go.

It was funny, and cute, but Dan began to struggle out of Arin’s grasp if not only to cool himself off but also to avoid dealing with the boner pressed against his hip. He wrestled out of Arin’s arms, standing and smoothing himself out. Arin looked a silly sight: fully on Dan’s side of the bed and face covered in splayed brown hair. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, did he go to bed without one? Dan couldn’t remember.

Dan stood under the shower head, keeping the temperature cold for a few moments longer than he wanted. He was almost 40, and most certainly would have control over his own libido, especially on a business trip.

When he stepped back into the bedroom, Arin was sitting up, tapping away a text to someone on his phone. Dan coughed to get his attention.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take your vision of me being Suzy so seriously, I woke up with you all up on me.”

“Whoops, sorry. Can’t control it.” Arin’s voice was raspy, and he didn’t bother to try emoting.

“Seriously, man. I can’t have your morning boner even risk touching mine. Who knows what would happen?”

Arin barely mustered an _I'm into it_  before falling back onto the pillows. His blasé attitude was a tiny bit irritating, and a vision of payback flashed through Dan’s head. Friendly payback, of course.

The next week went like that: an incredible live show, charged with a vitalizing energy, another almost positive emotional outburst from an overstimulated Dan, and a very sleepy 7 hours every night. That ended up being the problem, as Dan was unable to enact any sort of revenge because Arin would always seem to wake up before he did. Dan would open his eyes, feeling the residual heat of what could only be an intense spoon. His thirst for Arin getting a taste of his own medicine was heightened each morning.

Dan eventually caught him. After a show in Edinburgh, Arin stated to the group at large that he was coming down with something. Although it was masked with his joking, everyone could see the real worry that he was getting sick on his face. He turned in earlier than everyone, spending an inordinate time in the bathroom “steaming” the virus out.

When Dan opened his eyes, he almost exclaimed out loud at Arin still being asleep. Listening for a second to monitor how deep his snores were, he shuffled sideways, very careful to not disturb the mattress too much. He pulled Arin’s arm around his shoulders and suctioned himself to his friend’s side, tangling both of them up as much as he could. He only had to wait for a few minutes before Arin stirred.

“Good morning babe,” Dan purred into his ear, tracing a finger around his collarbones.

Arin tensed, eyes shot open and staring at Dan. A fearful wonderment was in them, tinged with disbelief.

“Dan?” His name sounded so weird from the million other times it had been said by this man, so much softer and more timid.

“It’s ‘Suzy,’ actually, but you can call me that if you want,” Dan was laying it on thick, snuggling into Arin’s neck.

It was a few moments of sweet shock, but like he always did, Arin recovered his balance and shot back with cockiness.

“Oh babe, I didn’t recognize you. I think it’s actually time for my early morning handjob.”

Boldened by some kind of manic energy, maybe leftover from the high of their shows, Dan reached down on impulse and pressed the palm of his hand into the front of Arin’s boxers. Time slowed down for one moment as a small breath left Arin’s lips, body still frozen stiff.

Dan soaked in the helpless expression for a long minute, then started laughing. He pushed himself backward, out of breath and clutching his chest. Arin had thawed and was chuckling too, still a little dazed.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Arin’s hands scrubbed down his face in defeat. Dan gathered his things and nearly skipped to the bathroom.

He won this time.

The last few days of the tour passed by with such astonishing speed, Dan could still feel the residual whiplash sitting in his plane seat on the flight back. It felt more like two days instead of two weeks, the shows, late night snacks, and limited sightseeing all blending together into one big happy memory. It was work, and hard work at that, but Dan couldn’t wait to come back and do it again. Just the thought of traveling to different countries gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. He sipped his small container of tea and sank back into the seat, fully content.

~

Dan’s big house felt so empty. He usually loved having so many different nooks and crannies to hide away in, but after being confined to the hotel for so long, he felt like a lost songbird that was just released into the wide open expanse of nature.

He puttered around his kitchen for a while, opening and closing cupboards without really choosing anything to take out, and downing at least 4 glasses of water in the absent process. He flipped through Netflix from a reclined position on the couch, seeing a lot of stuff he could’ve been watching but choosing none. It was 3 hours of idle frustration. Dan really didn’t know what to do with himself on a jetlagged day off.

In the midst of his turmoil, he jumped against the vibration of the phone in his pocket. His heart dropped when he saw the contact name. For maybe the fourth time in his life, he declined a call, sending it to voicemail. Now he was bored, and his mood was ruined. Wallowing in the nest of throw pillows his interior decorator insisted he get, Dan wanted to talk to someone.

Why not the person who got him through the breakup?

Five minutes and a text message later, he was jumping into his car, en route to Arin’s house and decidedly happy to have something to do.

“What do you think about online dating?” Arin’s voice was smooth, and he, of course, had no idea of the deja vu he just caused Dan to experience.

“You know, you sound just like my mother.” Dan was giving Mochi a pretty mean butt pat down, trying to not let himself sound petulant.

“Maybe she’s right. Dan, you…” Arin trailed off, resting his head on his chin on the kitchen counter. Dan stood up, adjusting himself.

“I what?”

“You know,” Arin looked chagrined, “You do talk about dating and relationships. And D-”

“You don’t have to mention her. She called me earlier, you know? I didn’t pick up.”

Arin was shooting him the contemplative and distant eyes he wore whenever he was thinking of ways to help someone out. He looked down for a while.

“Maybe we should make you a tinder profile.” The side of his mouth was tugged up in a small smirk, though his eyes were still on his phone. Dan laughed because he didn’t believe Arin could possibly be serious.

“The last thing I need is to get recognized.” The statement had been repeated so many times, but it still rang true.

Arin locked his phone and jumped up to sit on the island, swinging his legs and managing to look like a small kid.

“So many famous people use it, and with no problem. You set your age range to higher than 30, you won’t find someone who knows you, and if you do, then they won’t be weird because they’re adults and adults aren’t weird.” His argument wasn’t bulletproof, but it was a hell of a lot more than Dan had heard before. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering it.

“How do you even do it though? There’s gotta be like a specific way of doing things that I’m not familiar with…” Dan trailed off, already defeated. Arin looked ecstatic.

“Man, I’m gonna help you date so many girls. We have to set up your profile and shit.” He was at the doorway, motioning Dan to follow him into the living room. They sat next to each other on the couch, Arin putting on whatever cartoon on the TV for background noise. He requested Dan’s phone and fidgeted while the app downloaded.

“I’m glad you’re excited about this.” Apprehension welled up in Dan’s chest as he couldn’t shake the nervous ‘i’m-in-way-over-my-head’ feeling from his system. Arin charged on, tapping the flame icon for him.

“Okay. Your name.”

“Please tell me you know that one.”

“Professor…” He slowed down his enunciation while typing.

“Please no.”

“Buttsworth.”

“Take it seriously.” Dan cracked a smile, but kept his voice level.

“Okay, okay. Daniel Avidan.”

“I was gonna say that’s wrong, but that is actually my name,” Dan laughed, mood lightening.

“Prefers… women.”

“That was a mighty long pause, Errone.”

Arin smiled but didn’t say anything.

“Age range, 30 to 40? Does that sound good?”

A part of Dan wanted to protest, before he internalized how old he was and shut it up.

“Yeah that’s fine. And don’t set it to 80 when I’m not looking.”

“I would never. Give me your anthem.”

“My what?”

“A song you like, that kind of is like, _your_ song.”

“That’s impossible. Uh, how about ‘Subdivisions?’ That’s a pretty ‘me’ song.”

Arin just nodded and tapped away. They went on like that for ten minutes, fleshing out the small details of Dan’s shiny new dating profile. An onlooker would notice his profession, love of music and retro games, as well as a few killer hand-picked photos of himself, all prescreened by sending them to Suzy first. Despite being at a crafts store, she still managed to send them quick replies on which shots were perfect, and which needed to go.

It seemed like they filled out every box, checked every necessary item, and Arin finally relinquished control of the phone back to Dan.

“Okay, why don’t we look for girls?”

“I don’t know, maybe tomorrow?” Dan’s feet were getting cold.

“Nah, man. It’s all up to you anyway. You won’t talk to someone who hasn’t already said they want to talk to you.”

“That sounds confusing, but okay.”

Arin sidled up next to him, bringing up the main screen.

“Here’s where you’ll see all the possible girls. You’ll see pictures and their profile, and if you like them, swipe right, and if you don’t…” Arin trailed off, expectant.

“You do the hokey pokey and you shake it all around?”

Arin slapped him on the shoulder.

“That’s what it’s all about, dude!”

It took another two days for Dan to even open the app again, and it was only during a rare moment of downtime between a meeting and an appointment that he curled up on the side of the couch and guarded his phone close to himself. Dan had his knees up, mug of tea becoming lukewarm on the coffee table while he sorted through the generated list of potential suitors.

_Her name is Amanda. Nope, I remember getting pushed into a pool when I was 7 by an Amanda._

_Oh, here’s Kelly. She has no upper lip though. Could I get over that? Probably not, it’s an important part of the whole kissing deal. End of the date, we’d be at her door, and I’d go in for it, and it would be weird, ‘cause that’s all I’d be thinking about. Better stick to fuller-lipped ladies and wow, I am a fucking weirdo._

_Okay, she’s cute. She has a lot of pictures of herself outside, though. Would we go hiking as a first date, then? My chicken legs can’t handle my stairs, let alone a mountainside. Better not._

After a while, he decided being overly picky wasn’t going to do him favors, and lowered his guard. A few swipes in, a rather attractive redhead caught his attention. She was short, curvy, and into 80’s rock. Sweet.

“Alright, Lia, I see your game.” Long having accepted that talking to himself was an inevitability of living alone, Dan swiped right. He held his breath for a moment, unsure of what to do next, when a notification popped up that she had liked him back. With a short fist pump that showed a rare ego flare, Dan set to work crafting a perfect opening statement.

His tenacity wavered when he saw she had already struck first.

_Love the Rush shirt ;] I have one just like it_

Hell yeah, man! Dan relaxed back into the cushions, happy to have struck gold so early. He also begrudgingly admitted to himself that Arin was right about online dating being easy, and dare he say it, kinda fun. Now he had Lia to talk to, and hopefully impress, a task that didn’t sound too hard. Face to face it would be, but over text? Piece of cake.

As evening approached, Dan underscored the rest of his errands with replies to Lia, trading blows with her quick wit while he juggled everyday tasks. They were in the throes of trying to make the process of trading basic information more interesting while Dan swung by a convenience store to pick up popcorn (whoever wasn’t picking titles for movie nights was on snack duty and tonight was Dan’s turn to provide). He was learning Lia slowly: she was born sometime in spring, the exact date he already embarrassingly forgot, her favorite color was purple, and her dachshund’s name was ‘Schnitzel.’ He had cinched weekend dinner plans just before pulling into Arin’s driveway, eager to tell of his success to his friend over whatever movie that was picked for that night.

Their houses, despite being similar in size, couldn’t have held more different vibes upon entering. Where Dan’s house was professionally arranged, and everything had a specific place and purpose, he wasn’t above admitting it could be seen as sterile, especially for a place only one guy lived in _most_ of the time. Arin’s place, though still polished, gave out the comforting aura of homeliness, cat scratched windows and taxidermied animals alike.

Dan let himself in, whistling a tune and twirling his keyring on one finger, carrying the bag of snacks in his other hand. He ambled to the kitchen, where he found Suzy reading something on her phone.

“Hey, Scuze. You ready for movie night?” Suzy beamed up at him, hair glossier than ever. He’d have to make a note to ask if she’d gotten it done, then compliment her according to the answer.

“Hell yeah. My tummy’s been rumbling for some popcorn since this morning.”

“Well, I have the goods right here,” he said, pulling out two varieties of popcorn, buttered and not, as well as three types of candy. Suzy _oohed_ at the selection.

“I always love when you get to pick out snacks. Since the health kick, Arin always cares so much about how much sugar and fat is in everything.”

Dan could’ve sworn he saw Arin devour a loaded cheeseburger the other day, but kept his mouth shut for the sake of keeping peaceful marital ties. Instead, he sought out a glass and the nearest tap.

“No way to talk about your hubs, girl. What’d he choose for our viewing pleasure tonight?”

Suzy shrugged.

“He was being secretive about it, like the annoying kind where he constantly brings it up but never gives away anything.” Her eyes narrowed, and the sharp eyeliner gave her threatening look even more merit. She was a good half foot shorter than him, but Dan always felt she equaled his size most of the time.

“We’ll see sooner or later, right? It’s already, damn. Seven? The day flew past.” It sounded like shitty small talk, but Dan was genuinely surprised at the loss of time. Running around town and the promise of a new potential date kept things moving, he guessed. That reminded him.

“You know how Arin set me up on that dating app?”

Suzy raised an eyebrow, looking as cute as ever.

“Aw don’t give me that look. I did meet someone, though. Well, I saw their profile anyway, and we started talking.”

“That’s great!” Her tone was high, and she moved to wrap her arms around Dan’s midsection. He reciprocated, trying to figure out her angle.

“I’m glad you’re enthusiastic.”

“Are you meeting soon?” She pulled away, looking up at him with the same cheerful smile. Dan didn’t want to think like an asshole, but it didn’t look sincere.

“Yeah, we’re going out to eat this Saturday. I suggested sushi, and I’m waiting on a response now.”

Suzy readjusted her hair, still smiling.

“Well, now I get to pick out your outfits at least. You are not going on a date in ripped jeans. Sorry Dan.” She sounded warmer talking about one of her passions. Dan was determined to not let whatever weird occurrence just happened get to him, and latched onto the distraction.

“What’s so wrong with ripped jeans? They’re cool, they say I don’t care too much about looks.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” they both laughed themselves into a looser state, and the regular banter between them had officially returned.

When Arin had lumbered down from upstairs, he was clad in sweatpants and a tank top, as well as a very drained expression. Dan was manspreading on their couch, reading whatever clickbait news article had pulled his attention first. When he looked at Arin, his eyebrows pulled together and he ceased giving Mochi butt pats, to which the cat gave a very displeased meow.

“What happened, man?”

“Worked out way too hard, man. He said we should try kickboxing, because it’s ‘so fun dude,’ and it sucked.” Arin shuffled to the couch, settling himself down with a grimace. He began rubbing his legs with a sour face.

“On the bright side, you probably have more strength in your legs than I do in my entire body.” Dan tried to be a tentative as possible when handing Arin the popcorn bowl, as if his friend were a tiger mother guarding her cubs against predators. He had set the bowl on his lap and was picking at it when Suzy swept in, dressed in sweatpants but also looking more immaculate than the two of them could ever hope to be.

“Babe, can you grab the movie? I don’t wanna get up.” Arin didn’t even have to pull out the puppy eyes, because Suzy was already loading the DVD he was pointing to into the player and adjusting the volume levels. She hopped back to the couch and sat between Dan and Arin, understandably closer to her husband. Arin stretched his arms over the back of the couch and gave Dan a genuine smile, the first piece of himself shining through.

“You’re gonna love it.”

Dan most certainly did. The 80’s flick had robots, a space battle, two instances of onscreen nudity, and a fabulous amount of big hairstyles. When it was done, the three of them had gone from laughing at its special effects, to quoting one of the leads and showering the art director with praise. When the first natural lull in conversation occurred, it was as if someone had administered to Suzy an electric shock.

“Well, I have to go get ready for bed,” she looked at Dan lovingly, “I’ll see you later Dan.” She sped upstairs before he could respond.

“You think Suzy’s acting weird?” Not the nicest way to put it, but Dan’s curiosity was too high. Arin shook his head casually, unfazed.

“She’s been busy lately. Puts a lot of stress on her to get everything done.”

Dan didn’t think that was much of an answer, but was wise enough to drop it. Arin hadn’t moved, most likely due to his legs, but let out a huge yawn.

“Want me to carry you upstairs, buddy?”

Arin, eyes closed, put out his arms and hands in the classic kid ‘pick-me-up’ pose. Dan laughed and stood up.

“Maybe another time. My biceps have been pretty noodly lately.” He gave a weak flex and pretended it hurt to do so.

Arin, with painful effort, stood up. Dan was about to say goodbye, mind already almost out the door, when Arin twitched. It caught his eye because he had seen the same motion before a handful of times. Once, after playing a shitty kids game on the show and noticing his commentary was suffering. Arin spilled the beans about Jack’s situation after, but before he did his lip twitched, as if he couldn’t stop what he was about to say. Another time Dan didn’t even want to think about, but remembered the tic happening before Arin swamped him into a tearful hug.

So, he needed to spill the beans. Not wanting to give away his secret knowledge so fast, Dan thought he could lure out the confession without too much prompting.

“What’s up?” It was simple, and easily explained away.

Arin looked startled.

“Nothing, man. Just, uh, thinking about where those actors are now.”

Lame. Dan had to dig deeper, and get to the bottom of the whole mystery. He had the feeling both Arin and Suzy’s actions were connected to whatever he wasn’t talking about. He moved forward and placed a hand on Arin’s upper arm. The old flesh-to-flesh contact trick. Sounds gross that way, but it works. Usually.

“If something’s wrong, you can talk to me.” It wasn’t rare that Dan was this serious, but it always held a specific weight when he took upon himself that soft tone. Arin looked even more frightened, and his lip twitched again. They stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of seconds. Dan decided he wasn’t going to get it out of him tonight.

“The offer still stands, whenever. I’ll see you later, take care, okay?” He bopped Arin’s shoulder, which seemed to function the same as doing it to an old TV.

“See you later.” It was strained, and Dan’s entire thought catalogue from the second the door closed behind him and he was sitting in the driver’s seat of his car was focused on it.

Fuck was going on?

~

The next few days saw a massive downturn in Dan’s mood. A perfect storm of shitty little happenings had slowly driven him batty: lost car keys, missed meetings, and the formation of one zinger of a headache had made Dan a very grumpy man.

It was a Friday evening at work, and he had just come in from what could arguably be the least helpful doctor’s appointment he’d ever had. He didn’t hang up his jacket, and walked straight to his desk. Part of him was thankful it was late enough to not run into a million of his friends. They definitely didn’t need to see him in this mood, god forbid feel any effects of it. He was retyping an email for the third time when Arin walked in from the hallway, hair up and sweatpants on. Instead of greeting Dan, he walked over to the table in the center of the room and shuffled something around.

It shouldn’t have been anything, but he began to fixate on it, letting the idea of Arin ignoring him fester until it was sitting like an acidic ball in his stomach. He hated feeling this indignant, it hit way too close to those teenage moments of anger that lived on permanently in his regrets. Those were all over nothing, too.

He clutched his jacket, closing it tighter around him with folded arms in the annoying habit he’d kept from childhood. He wanted to spark up a flowing conversation with his best friend, but his mouth seemed to be broken. Sitting in the torturous silence for longer than he wanted, Dan pushed himself out of the computer chair to beeline for the kitchen.

Standing in front of the rows of snacks, he leaned forward and braced himself against the counter. Feeling this arbitrarily angry was not working for him. He took ten deep breaths and repeated a tested mantra to himself ten times. When he opened his eyes, he felt much calmer and more collected. He didn’t have to think about a solution to the problem now, just focus on the work in front of him.

Back in the middle space, he whistled softly to give Arin a heads up before tossing him a granola bar. Arin, much to Dan’s relief, gave a genuine smile while catching it.

“Thanks, man.”

“No probs. What’re you doing?” Dan walked over to where Arin had spread out a mess of sketches, most half finished, over the expanse of wood. He had been chewing his lip, and it was already reddened to the point of what had to be painful.

“Making choices for what to keep and what to toss for Gameoverse. I would do it in my office, but there’s no room.”

Dan scanned the drawings, noting in his absent way that Ross or Arin’s sloppy first drafts would be better than his most polished effort. He had always admired their artistic talent, but had no idea why he was getting wrapped up in it now.

Before long, with minimal prodding from Dan, Arin was off on ten tangents about Gameoverse, and began looking more like himself with every hurried explanation. It wasn’t perfect, and Dan still didn’t know what was eating up his best friend, but for a few hours alone in the office, it was all he could ask for.

The next day, Dan stood in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom, clad in only his boxers and trying to look everywhere but the exact places he was under confident about, but trying to make it look like he wasn’t doing that despite the fact that no one was watching. His eyes swapped between his phone and the closet, waiting for a reply text from Suzy about what to wear for the date. She was speedy, and commanded him to pick out a nice shirt to start with. Though he knew it would net an eye roll, he plucked three of his most commonly worn t-shirts from their hangers and placed them on his bed to snap a pic.

A very quick reply, in the form of two capital letters, made him laugh, hiding the creeping nervous truth that he really wasn’t spoiled for choice when it came to ‘nice’ clothes. If he never wore them, what’s the point of having a closetful of needless expensive shit? Who needs stuff made of silk anyway?

“Thousands of poor innocent silkworms die for their cause, Suze. I can’t do that to my tiny brethren.” Instead of just saying that just theoretically, he typed it out and sent it to her, then returned to being stumped. After a decade of searching, he pulled out one white dress shirt and one blue shirt. He took another picture and captioned it ‘choose wisely.’

Suzy sent an eye rolling emoji but picked the white one, prompting him to then pick out a dark pair of jeans. She made a threatening ‘no holes’ addition that sent Dan reeling into another closet expedition. He was lucky he started early, picking up Lia an hour after he promised to would start the date off on a shot foot.

He put the shirt and pants on, making sure they weren’t wrinkled or suddenly too big or small, which was a fear of his for some unknown reason. He paired them, as per Suzy’s blessing (or rather insisting), with the only pair of boat shoes he thought he’d ever own. A gift from last Christmas, they were sinfully comfy, but it was too hard to get rid of the sneaker habit easily, and as a result, Dan had worn them less than a dozen times.

He stared in the mirror, and he looked more or less put together, but not really like himself. He pushed away the feeling by reminding himself that first impressions were the most important part of doing anything with a new person. Once Suzy had voiced her approval, he grabbed his wallet and keys, sliding out the door a cool five minutes early.

Lia was standing outside her apartment building, red hair easily picked out from a distance. As Dan pulled up and waved, the first moment of questionable tension dissipated as he saw she looked exactly the same as her pictures, if not a little shorter. She slid into the passenger seat, giving a boisterous greeting. The second piece of tension also began to slip away into ease when she took charge of the conversation, filling up the air with stories or jokes. A girl with something to say was nicer to hang out with than her counterpart, Dan supposed, remembering many painful silent college dates.

The restaurant was quiet and cool, and Dan was enjoying the flow of conversation. When it turned to his career, he was surprised, though he probably shouldn’t have been.

“You’re in a band.”

He didn’t know what she was trying to imply.

“Yeah, I’ve been in a few, but this one's a keeper.” It was a commercial answer, but what else could he say? A lot, but nothing flattering or polite to talk about with someone you just met. Lia took a sip of lemonade like a smoker takes a drag, looking contemplative.

“Must be busy.”

“Yeah, it can be super hectic. It’s always fun though. I wouldn’t choose anything else.” He was sincere, and she seemed satisfied. Their first course came and the conversation about his career was at an end.

When he dropped her off, and she shut the door and sauntered inside and he was left alone with all the stewing thoughts of what just happened, it took more out of him than he realized, and he pushed back a few yawns as he drove home.

He toed off his shoes and tried to put his keys in a place he would remember tomorrow. He loaded up Netflix and checked his phone, tapping out a short but detailed reply to Suzy, who asked how the date went. They traded replies until Dan found an unexpected opening to talk about the question burning him. Suzy mentioned Arin staying late at the office, a not uncommon occurrence.

_Can I ask you something serious? About Arin?_

Her reply was quick, like she had been waiting for him to ask that exact question.

_I know how he’s been acting. It’s something you have to work out between you two._

Well, that left more unanswered than ever before. It sounds like he did something to piss Arin off, which was even scarier, because he couldn’t fathom what it was. He didn’t think he said anything offensive or rude, but what if he did? Too much was in his head to straighten out, and the cryptic replies weren’t helping. He just wanted his friend back.

_I don’t know what ‘it’ is though. What do I say? Did I fuck up?_

Dan, now uninterested in Netflix, walked himself upstairs and into a meditative position on his bed. Another few dozen deep breaths would help him think clearer. His phone buzzed.

_It’s nothing bad. Just talk to him. Please?_

It wasn’t uncommon for Dan to not reply to people, but this was the first time in a while it had been on purpose.

~

Weeks passed, and things marched on as usual in their unusual lives. Meetings were held in which they were both serious and not, live shows were performed in front of adoring audiences that reinvigorated their entertaining spirits, and a couple dozen series came and went on the channel, garnering love and distaste alike.

But the tension hadn’t been resolved. Pushed to the background and hidden behind jokes and ribs and snacks brought from the kitchen, sure. But never gone. Dan knew he hadn’t gotten away with not having the mysterious conversation with Arin, but he didn’t know how to approach it without Arin shutting himself off again. It took an afternoon realization to push him to action.

He was lounging on Lia’s couch, running a hand through her hair while she reclined her head on his lap. It would be comfy, if Lia hadn’t kept craning her head back to talk to him.

“Do you ever question your level of friendship?” It was a question from her, alright. Posed as innocence, with a hidden meaning behind it.

“What, with Arin?”

She sat up and turned towards him, nodding.

“Yeah. It sounds like you’re putting a lot more in than you’re getting out.”

Dan felt something in him twist, like a painful heartstring had just been plucked by something with too long nails. No one had ever trashed his and Arin’s friendship in such a blatant way before. Their relationship was the bedrock of their entire operation, their brand, and their image. It was then Dan saw the stress of the past month for what it was: an infinitesimally small bump in the larger picture of their kick ass friendship.

Dan looked at Lia. _Really_ looked. Sure, she had a beautiful smile and nice hair, but won’t the stuff she said about Arin come back to haunt him? A month, three years from now, could he ever look at her and not see someone who disliked his best friend and one of the most important people in his life?

It was as if he was looking at different person entirely. And Dan Avidan had been in too many shitty relationships in his life that had lingered on way longer than they needed to. He was almost 40, and he knew when to quit.

Standing up and making sure he had everything he brought over on his person, he gave Lia a stoic look.

“These past few weeks have been fun, but I don’t know if we’re really right for each other, long term wise.” It was so cut and dry and direct, Lia barely had time to chase and swear at his retreating back before he was back in his car and on his way to Arin’s.

His confidence was unwavering as he pulled up and rushed into the house, seeking out his friend. Arin was standing in the kitchen, looking in the cupboards for something when Dan strode in.

“What,” Dan stated flatly, loud enough to startle Arin and make him turn around.

“Is going on, man?” He finished, moving forward to the island between them, suitable enough for a metaphor of their current embattlement. Arin froze up, looking very much like an animal caught in a trap.

“What are you doing here, man?” His voice was lower than usual, a rarity for his register.

“I want to talk. About why you’ve been so weird.” If there was any time to get it all out now, Dan just threw himself into it.

Arin looked like he was coming up with an excuse, but thought better of it. He sighed and pushed his hair back, messing it up.

“We should talk in the living room.” He lead the way, but looked no more open to share when he sat down than those weeks ago in the same position. Dan settled in too, formulating ways to approach the topic. He had wondered over the past weeks, and out loud to Lia at times, if it was something tragic or disheartening, and for a really tense few hours, Dan freaked himself out at the thought of Arin with a terminal illness. But he was looking at Arin, and he looked no different than he ever did. Though he had to say, nervous was never a look he could pull off.

“What has been happening the past few weeks? I should have talked to you sooner.” Dan sprung those words and then prepared to wait as long as it took for Arin to come up with a response. He fidgeted with his hands, mostly twisting his wedding ring and tossing his hair around. He seemed to grow more uncomfortable until he exhaled a long breath and closed his eyes, head tilted against the top of the couch.

“There’s no impending death, no family tragedy, nothing to do with the business. I hate making you think it’s that important. You’re gonna, hah, I think you’re actually gonna punch me when you find out. It’s so stupid.”

Dan was more than happy to hear the first part, but the very scarce ounce of impatience he owned was rising up.

“You gotta tell me. I’ve been going crazy over here.” Dan was pleading at this point.

Arin groaned, hand squishing down the side of his face. His eyes were still closed, but Dan didn’t begrudge him for that.

“When I set you up on that dating site, I didn’t think you’d actually use it, let alone find someone and date them.”

Okay. There were still a lot of possibilities at this point.

“I’ve had girlfriends before.” It sounded more dickish coming out than he wanted, but their friendship had never taken many hits as a result of Dan being committed. The unspoken question here was _why now_?

“I know. But, the Europe tour happened.”

“What about the tour?” Dan felt as though he had stumbled upon the root of it all. The weight of finality chased a rush of anxiety through him. This is what he wanted, but he was still apprehensive.

“I just. Woke up next to you every day. And it felt so right. I didn’t want to make it weird, but that’s what I’m doing right now so I guess it doesn’t matter, I guess I went beyond regular jealously this time and moved right into a type that I shouldn’t even be feeling and-”

“Arin.” Dan cut off the blabber. His heart was jumping, and his subconscious had reached a faster conclusion than he could understand.

“I guess what I’m trying to say.” Another long sigh, this time deep from Arin’s lungs, probably from his soul.

“Is that I’m in love with you in the way you know, and in the way you don’t.”

Wow. In all honesty, Dan thought news like that would shatter his earth and mind, but after a month of wondering if his best friend was going to kick the bucket any day from a disease that hadn’t had enough research done to name it yet, a crush wasn’t the type of thing to blow up about. Everything said, not that bad.

Dan wound up dramatically as if to punch Arin in the shoulder, achieving his goal of a grateful laugh.

“I’m elevating this punch to a headbutt. _That’s_ what’s been killing you? You tell me it every day.”

“That’s joking, though,” Arin whined, protecting his midsection from any possible assault. Dan shook his head and laughed.

“What are we gonna do now, then? Date?” Dan was grinning, but a flash of embarrassment on Arin’s face made it waver. They couldn’t do that. Dan didn’t know if he could ever consider it. He leaned back, almost touching his shoulder to Arin’s.

“What do you want to do now?” His voice came out so soft. Arin blew air through his mouth and sank back even more, as if the truth he was holding onto for so long was keeping him alert.

“I don’t know. I just want to fall asleep with you again. You don’t have to promise me anything.”

“I can promise that.” It just came out, but Dan was over overthinking.

“Lia?”

“I said goodbye to her today.”

“That’s shitty.”

“Don’t even start worrying about it. It was the right decision.” There wasn’t a need to go into detail at the moment. Dan looked at his phone obviously.

“Oh man, look at the time. Could I crash here?” Arin looked equal parts pleased and red.

“It’s 4:30, but sure. We cater to old people here at casa del Hanson.”

After all the stupid bullshit of the past month, Dan actually was tired enough to fall asleep. He wrapped himself up in the oversized black blanket and felt one last shuffle of Arin beside him before falling into a dreamless sleep.

~

“Next time on Game Grumps!” Dan had to be the one to herd the episode closed, Arin looked almost comatose next to him. Coming back from traveling always sucked, but with Arin teetering on the edge of a full blown con flu, filming episodes was a time and a half.

Dan looked up at Arin from his reclined spot on the couch, legs stretched overtop him in a position that could dangerously help him fall asleep. It was casual and intimate, but that wasn’t foreign to them anymore. They had gone through nearly every page in the first chapter of Cuddling 101 in the grump room, both before, during, and after episodes. It leaked into their recordings from their homes, where it was more than a common occurrence on a Thursday night.

“Dan?”

“Yeah, man?”

“I’m glad you wouldn’t let me keep being a chickenshit.”

“Me too.”

They had to hold a meeting soon, but for the time being they were content being wrapped up with each other. It wouldn’t be the last time, but they had learned through lessons in their life that it was necessary to savor the small things.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, as always! <3 This was a great experience and I appreciate everyone who helped me along the way :*
> 
> XOX, Bonyspark


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